


Vermilion and Copper

by phantomkidd



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, F/M, I'm Sorry, Maybe - Freeform, Multi, Past Child Abuse, Past Relationship(s), Past life, Reincarnation, This is going to be a shit show, it says xOC but trust me its not, lots and lots of angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:41:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21981562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phantomkidd/pseuds/phantomkidd
Summary: having such a heavy heart,halving such a weary soul,vermilion and copper haunt our dreams.these are the things we will never let go.you are the thing I could never let go.Waking up in a sweat is never an enthusing way to start a day, but when the cause behind it is only a phantom in your dreams you cannot do much else but shrug it off and get on with life. [Name] strives to lead an uneventful life as an uneventful person. She doesn't even have a friend to her name! When a mysterious ring unearths itself, though, she's soon to find that ghosts from your past life can ruin all of your hopes of "uneventful".
Relationships: Alastor (Hazbin Hotel)/Original Character(s), Alastor (Hazbin Hotel)/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 39





	1. Past Life: An Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> [A/Name] stands for "alternate name". It'll make sense. Hopefully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [A/Name] means "alternate name". It'll make sense eventually, Hopefully.

“Do you believe in reincarnation?” His voice brushed against the skin on the back of my neck causing my hair to stand on end with anticipation. 

My hands shook as they clasped the front of my hoodie. Tears gathered in the corner of my eyes, threatening to spill over any second. “No.” 

My voice was a ghost in the room. Something hollow and broken and lost in time. 

“Whoever you think I am, I’m not.” It wouldn’t matter what I said. He had already made up his mind. His Copper, he had found her again. 

New Orleans, Louisiana  
March 1st, 1932

[A/Name] Montague was celebrating her 18th birthday dancing. Her dress was swinging around her calves with each step, delicate lace brushing against her skin and making her feel free. The jazz band on stage made her blood race in her veins with excitement and glee. “My dear, you’re a marvelous dancer!” Her partner spun her, making her feel even lighter on her feet, “Are you sure you’ve never danced before?” 

“No sir!” She offered him a shy smile as he squeezed her fingers between his own. “Haven’t ‘ad much of a chance. We don’t do lots of dancing in the country.” The song changed and with it so did the tempo. 

“Ah! You aren’t from here? You could’ve fooled me.” He pulled her closer as the music got louder and her cheeks heated up at such a scandalous act. “Have you just moved here?” 

“Yes, sir.” She nodded her head, almost bobbing it against his chest. She’d never been this close to a man that wasn’t her Pops before. “Came down today. I’m eighteen now so I can live on my own!” 

With that, the man threw his head back and laughed, “Oh my! Well, aren’t you bold.” He tipped his head down to look her in the eye, “Tell me, dear, what are your plans? Where are you staying? Where are you working?” At her dumbfounded expression, he laughed again, “Have you no plan?” 

“I must admit I didn’t think that far!” She laughed with him this time, pearly whites catching the dim light of the room. “I’m sure I can find something?” 

“Accommodations won’t be a problem at all, but a job may be a little harder to find.” He offered a kind smile as her shoulders drooped. “Don’t look so down! You have me!” 

“I have you?” She quirked a brow. 

“Why yes. I’m the great Santiago Valenzuela. If I can’t find you a job no one can.” He lifted her hand to his mouth, brushing a kiss against her knuckles, “And lucky for you you impressed me enough to put the work in. I’ll have to start tonight, though, so if you’ll excuse me I must be leaving. Take care dear.” He pulled away and started to disappear into the crowd. 

“Wait! Mr. Valenzuela! How will I find you?” 

“This is New Orleans! Fate will pull you back to me again.” He blew a kiss and then he was gone. 

“Oh goodness... my feet sure are sore.” Maybe she should call it a night. 

New Orleans, Louisiana  
March 2nd, 1932

The following day [A/Name] left her hotel room at dawn. It had been a lucky, and cheap, find. It wasn’t in the safest place, but she had been escorted by a group of crossdressers she had ran into outside of another club. They were loud and affectionate, claiming she was too adorable to walk alone. They had also been the ones to lead her to the hotel. So maybe they had been the lucky find and the hotel had been the reward. 

She was wearing a simpler outfit that day, a light red dress with sensible shoes. She intended to scavenge the streets until she found Mr. Valenzuela again. With a resolve she started her stroll back to Bourbon Street but the growling of her stomach stopped her. Maybe breakfast should be a priority. 

Instead of Bourbon Street where she had partied before, she found herself in the French Courter. Even daylight music poured from every possible angle, a welcome accompaniment as she approached a bustling Café du Mondé. Just as she stepped in line she registered a familiar tall figure cleaning one of the tables near the edge of the tent. His gaze drifted up to her and a grin smothered his tan cheeks. Without missing a beat he slipped around the table and approached the line, a peppy sway in his hips as he walked. 

“Good morning my dear!” He grabbed her hands and pulled her from the line, spinning her once, “Aren’t you just adorable today? You don’t look a day over eighteen!” They both shared a giggle as he leads her past the line, patting the waiter at the front on the back. “Since you found me, breakfast is my treat!” He sat her at the table he had been working on before, sweeping up used plates on one arm as he swept powder sugar away from her and off the table. “I’ll be back shortly.” 

He left without another moment, leaving her to look around. There was an inside seating area, and then a large tent-like cover to make a patio for more tables to nest themselves. Before she could study patrons Santiago with two plates and two cups of coffee. “Have you tried chicory coffee before?” 

“I’m admittedly not a coffee drinker. I much rather prefer tea.” She watched as he sat bight the plates and coffee down before he sat down as well. 

“You may want to change that. Your boss loves coffee. The darker the better.” 

“My boss?” [A/Name] blinked in confusion.

Santiago’s smile became cocky, “Why of course. I said I’d find you a job, didn’t I?” 

“Oh! Thank you so much Mr. Valenzuela!” She leaned over and threw her arms around his neck in a grateful hug. 

“Do watch the beignets dear! The powder sugar will stick to your dress.” 

“Oops, you’re right. I’m sorry.” She sat back, making sure her dress was fine. 

“It’s fine, it’s fine. Hugs from a lovely dame are always welcome, after all.” He pushes her plate closer, “Now hurry and eat. I’ll tell you about your new boss as you do.” 

Breakfast went by fast but she savored every minute of it. The beignets were light and fluffy, yet crispy at the same time. The powdered sugar melted on her tongue and lost her in bliss. She had to stop herself from sighing in amour with every bite. The coffee was bitter but she did her best to drink it all as Santiago told her of her new job and her new boss. 

“It wasn’t easy, I tell you. Trying to find the perfect job to fit a dame such as yourself. Young, delicate, full of life, innocent— we don’t see much of you’s in these parts. I had to find you the perfect job.” Part of [A/Name] wished he would just cut to the chase already, the suspense was killing her. 

“Couldn’t be a filthy bar or a risky hotel. Lucky for you I know a few peoples, and I know this one fellow that’s been looking for an assistant. His name is Alistair and he’s one of the most famous radio show hosts here in New Orlean’s.” His finger traced the rim of his coffee mug, “Sounds snazzy, right?” 

She was at a loss for words, “Oh Mr. Valenzuela, I don’t know how to thank you.” 

He grinned, resting his hand in his cheek, “My dear, I just want you to keep dancing so maybe someday we will meet one another on the dance floor again.” 

“Santiago! We need you bust’n tables again! Tammy is goin’ on break!” A voice called from the crowd, a stout woman with gorgeous hair. 

Santiago sighed with this and stood, “Alas our time is cut short. Until we meet again.” He offered his hand, which she placed her own in. He pulled her to her feet before placing a kiss on the back of her knuckles, just as he had the night before. When he pulled his hand away he had left a slip of paper behind, an address for her to find. “Hurry along. I told him you’d stop by today.” 

“Thank you so much.” She smiled, holding the paper to her chest. 

“Don’t mention it.” He waved, swept up their plates and cups, and left. She sighed to herself, feeling as if she was in a dream. He was a dream. She couldn’t dawdle though, she needed to find this radio show host. 

The building she had come to was narrow yet tall. It was beautiful in its design, something to come out of a fairy tale. [A/Name] had to stare for a moment, disbelief seizing her whole. Then the moment was gone and she was living again, an excited flutter in her chest as she took the last few steps to the door, grasping the golden handle and pulling it to. 

“As always thank you for tuning in! I will be back after a short break.” There was a click and the “On Air” sign turned off. Music drifted softly from the speakers a voice had been sounding from before. What came next was the opening of another door, white in color and creaky on its hinges. Out from it strode a tall male that took her breath away. He was gorgeous. She suddenly felt extremely small, no doubt flushed head to toe. 

“Oh, what do we have here?” He smiled nicely, voice like butter and matching the one she had heard upon her own entrance. “Has a little lamb wandered in off of the street? I hate to disappoint you darling, but I have nothing worth shopping for here. Next door is a lovely jeweler, though. Maybe you can purchase a necklace befitting of such a lovely neck.” 

Ah, he was a flatterer. If she wasn’t blushing before she definitely was now. “O-oh! No, actually, I have purpose here Sir.” She fiddled with the slip of paper in her hands, “An acquaintance of yours, Mr. Santiago Valenzuela, said you were looking for an assistant?” 

Realization lit up his gorgeous brown hues and he crossed the threshold with three simple steps, picking up both of her hands in his own, “Well, then I must apologize, my dear. May we start this again? My name is Alistair and I am indeed looking for an assistant. What is your name? I’m afraid Santiago didn’t leave me with much of one. He seems to know you as Copper. Is that your name?” 

“A-ah.” The proximity had her losing her breath again, “No, no it’s not. My name is [A/Name] Montague.” 

“Oh? A Montague? Surely such divinity should be of Capulet blood. A descendant from the same blood as the bewitching Juliet herself.” He raised her hands to press a kiss to the knuckles of her left hand, “It is a pleasure to meet you, [A/Name].” The way he looked down at her sent her heart soaring. “Now, let’s go back to my office and talk details! Would you like coffee?” 

“Oh— I just had some—“ 

“Chicory coffee I assume, knowing Santiago. That’s not real coffee my dear! Go, sit! I’ll bring you something you’ll be sure to fall in love with.” 

Would it be a crime if she had already fallen in love? 

Ushered into his office she was tempted to sit, but a row of pictures on the wall caught her eye. Most were of Alistair in hunting gear, bucks at his feet with their heads lifted only by his hold on their antlers. There was a picture of a young boy and a woman that caught her attention, though. The woman was beautiful and the boy looked like Alistair. His wife and kid perhaps—? 

“That’s my mother, isn’t she lovely?” She jumped at the voice as it brushed the shell of her ear. “Oh dear! I didn’t mean to spook you so.” 

A hand hovered over her chest as she turned, staring up into his face once more, “No no, it’s quite alright Mr. Alistair. It’s my fault for prying.” 

“Just Alistair is fine, [A/Name]. I gave you my first name alone for a reason.” He smiled down at her, not moving away any time soon, “And it’s perfectly alright to be curious. In fact, I much rather prefer it. It’s better for this job.” He stepped to the side, gesturing for her to finally sit. With a warmth in her cheeks, she took a seat, and he walked around to his own chair, “I need to get back to my show, but it shan’t take long. Please make yourself at home.” 

He turned to soundboards and microphones, tuning her out as he tuned back into his show. Even on air he was charismatic, his lips curved into a smile you could melt into. Someone she could melt into. Oh, how much trouble that was bound to get her into.


	2. Present Life: Introduction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back in present time, our heroine experiences the morning of her 18th birthday and goes to school.

Heavy was the first thing on my mind when I woke up. But what was heavy? 

“Is this sweat?” I groaned, sitting up as little beads swept down from my forehead to my cheeks. “This is so gross.” Dumping my sheets and comforter off to the base of my bed, my bare feet hit my fuzzy rug. I stayed for just long enough to curl my toes into the white fluff. Then I was off my bed and embraced the cold wood floors in search of a change of clothes. Or maybe I should take a shower. I pulled on the damp sleep shirt, unsticking it from my skin. 

The water would be cold, undoubtedly. Unbearably. But if I didn’t I might stink. Scratch that, I will stink. With a defeated sigh, shower was locked in for my morning schedule. Snatching up an outfit I ventured off to the bathroom to wash the dream off. Whatever it was. 

“Cereal… where’s the Coco Puffs?” There was Special K, Cheerios, Raisin Bran, but absolutely no Coco Puffs. I know I hadn’t eaten all of them, I had just enough for one more bowl. Unless… “Hey, Ada?” I peeked out of the kitchen into the living room where Auntie A was doing her morning yoga routine. Ada was the child that went right in her family, my mom’s younger sister and the sole benefactor in their parent’s will. Healthy living was her life. She even owned her own yoga studio that would be open in… one more hour. Shit, I had to leave for school soon. 

“Heya sweetie pie! What’cha needing?” She made a very convincing tree. 

“Did I run out of Coco Puffs?” 

She made a face, I know that face, “Um, yeah! They seemed stale so I threw the last little bit out. That stuff is bad for you, anyways. We have other kinds though! Raisin Bran has lots of sugar in it, I bet you’ll get your fix from it!” 

Mystery Solved, the culprit was the health nut. The only downside to living with her is, well, this. “Gotcha. I may not have time, actually. But I’ll try it tomorrow.” 

“Oh! But you can’t skip breakfast!” She steadied her left foot back on solid ground, “Go finish getting ready for school and I’ll make you up a smoothie, okay?”  
“Sure thing. Thanks, Ada!” I gave her a thumbs-up as I hurried back up the short set of stairs to gather my things for school. Shoving books and notebooks and stray pens unceremoniously into my backpack, I tumbled back down the stairs just as the blender turned off. 

“Here ya go sweetie pie.” She handed me a mason jar full of blended fruit and a cutie. I wrinkled my nose at the citrus but took it anyway, knowing she would push it on me if I didn’t. “Annnnd…” She handed me a white envelope, “From your grandparents. Happy Birthday, [Name].” Now within my grasp was, undeniably, the crispest 50 dollar bill I will have touched in the past several months. At least since my last birthday. “You’re eighteen now! How does it feel?” 

“It feels… like I’m about to be late for school. I’ve gotta go. Thanks again, A.” 

“Uh-- hey! I’m making your favorite for dinner tonight! At seven, okay? So don’t be late!”

“Yep, seven! Got it! Bye!” I shoved the mason jar into the drink holder on the side of my backpack, swinging it on to the basket on the front of my bike. I kicked the stand up as I climbed on, backing up out of the bush I used as a bike rack. Shaking a leaf out of a front-wheel I took off down the driveway and then down the sidewalk. Once I was out of eyesight of the house I stopped at a trash can, picking the cutie up from where it had fallen into the basket. Before I could drop it where it belonged, a hand slapped my wrist up, eliciting a yelp from my lips. 

“Don’t throw that away! It’s a waste. There are so many people that desperately need food, y’know?” Mossy green eyes that could see into my soul and pouty lips colored a dark peach with a shimmery finish. 

“Sorry, Princess.” Princess Peach, for the lipgloss, “Then I’ll hand this over to you so you can give it to someone that desperately needs it.” I dropped the cutie into her hand that had just swatted mine, balancing my weight back on to my bike. It seemed Princess Peach wasn’t done with me, though, as she instead moved to walk beside me. Looks like I’d have to pedal slower to match her pace. Fun.

“I hate when people call me that.” I raised a brow at her. “Everyone at school calls me Princess B-- female dog behind my back at school. I know I’m demanding but that’s just uncalled for!”

I wanted to ask her if she took out her aggressions on everyone this early in the morning. All I wanted to do was throw away something foul. I also felt like explaining why I called her princess, but then again, did I owe her the explanation? No. In movies and TV shows so many problems could be solved if the characters just talked to each other, but solving problems makes relationships. I just wanted to get through high school without the drama, and relationships only brought drama.

“Mm. Sorry. What should I call you then?” 

“Perdita.” She flipped a loosely braided pigtail over her shoulder.

For a second I felt like I could remember the dream that had woken me up. Then it was gone. 

“Perdita.” I tested her name out and she nodded as if confirming it. 

“What’s your name?” 

Uh, red flag? Wasn’t this getting friendly? Shit, I initiated it. I needed to get better at my small talk skills. “Uh… oh look, we made it to school. Bye Perdita!” No one could blame me for riding off to the bike racks, right? I mean, they went fast. I would be lucky to find it, otherwise, I’d be locking it to a light pole again. Luckily I found a spot and joined the rest of the swarming crowd to make our way into the school together as one body. Mayhaps the student body? 

Would Perdita have laughed at that joke? I could see her a few people in front of me, baby pink jacket a soft complement to her light brown hair. On any other day, I wouldn’t have thought to pick her out of the crowd, but now I knew her. At least, to the best of my ability. She was bossy, admitted to it. Debate team Queen, probably. Maybe the drama department? She liked makeup it seemed, but only wore a light amount. She was pretty and confident. Single, for sure. She definitely had a group of friends, debate or drama or other, and to her, the rest of the world was against her. Still, she cared about one tiny citrus (which she was now handing off to another student with a smile, which they returned with a mouthed “thanks”), so she was caring, and kind. For a brief moment, I could see us sitting on her bedroom floor, painting each other's nails as we talked about our week. Her dad would lean through the doorway to tell us they were going to bed to keep it down, all the while smiling at us to let us know he meant it in the nicest dad-way. Then her mom would lean in after us and smile, And your parents know you are staying the night? And I would smile and nod then she would blow us a motherly kiss, Goodnight girls. 

The daydream ends and she fades back into the crowd, then I do, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will lead to Alastor I PROMISE I'm just long-winded lol.


End file.
